Noah's Mother

I can hear her calling for me while she scrapes the point of the butcher knife against the wall. Her voice sounds kind and gentle, but I know what she means to do.

“Come out, Noah.” She says “Come see what mother has for you.”

She is not my mother and my name is not Noah. My name is Kai and my real mother named me after a character on a television show she used to watch. My real mother is in the cellar of this old house and has been there for a long time.

When she fell down the stairs her neck snapped and twisted. I tried to fix it but she just laid there and stared up at the ceiling. I brought her food and water hoping it would stir her. She only stared. I kept trying until the day I opened the cellar and a horrible smell burned the inside of my nose. I never opened the door again.

I still have food to eat and there are good things to drink. The woman with the knife sets out a plate every evening hoping to entice me into opening the door. I wait until morning then I eat the meal. The food is like my grandmother made when she was still alive. Nothing came from a box like what my own mother fixed.

Once in awhile I hear giggling. I think it is Noah and I would like to play with him but he doesn't come to the room where I hide. Sometimes she finds him and I hold my hands over my ears to shut out his gurgling screams

No one ever comes and I think they have all forgotten us. I heard a knock on the door once, but she was outside of my door and I dared not open it. They went away and took all the lights with them.

When the sun is up I can leave the room. She stays away because she hates the light. I like to go exploring and find things to take to my room. There are toys but I leave them alone. They belong to Noah. I like the old bottles I find better anyway. Some are empty but there are others with strange liquids in them. I tasted one once and it made me feel funny.

The smell from the cellar is gone but my mom still hasn't gotten up. I wait for the door to open and for her to see I have been good while I waited for her.

I try to make the woman like me. Sometimes I leave gifts for her outside my door. They are never there in the morning so I know she takes them. I don't know why she doesn't like me. At least I can hide from her. Noah can't hide and she finds him.

I have a plan to get Noah to play with me. I'm going to get his toys and make trail to my room. He will follow it and I will open the door. Then we can play and his mother can't stop us.

Today I tried to go outside. My hands kept slipping off the door knob. I think Noah's mom did something to it so it won't work anymore.

I heard a baby crying. Tomorrow I'm going to find it.

Tonight I heard Noah's mother crying and calling his name. She sounded very sad and I almost thought of opening the door to let her in. It didn't last very long. Soon she was calling for him as she always did, with anger in her voice.

While The light is still out I put Noah's toys in a path to my room. I hope he follows it, then I will let him in and she won't get to him. Now I will lay down on the bed and wait.


I hear screaming. I don't know who it is. It doesn't sound like Noah or his mother. Someone slammed the front door. My window has boards over it so I can't look out to see who it is. I would wave to them if I could.

I don't know how long I was asleep before the screaming. There was still some light coming through the cracks of the door so it wasn't that long. There are more noises and I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Someone is trying to open my door but I have it locked.

Noah won't come tonight and his mother will stay away too. I will just sleep and try again tomorrow.



Jingling keys wake me up and I hear someone trying to unlock my door. There's a click and the door swings open. I sit up in my bed and he walks past me. I say “hi” and he does not even look. All he does is look around.

“Mister!” I yell at him.

All he does is rub his arms like he's cold.

The man tries to open the wardrobe but it won't open. I used to play in it when we first moved into the house. Now it frightens me. There is something in it that I don't want to see.

When the man leaves the room I go with him. I keep touching his arm to get his attention and he just scratches where I touch. He is a silly man.

There are more people I don't know walking around downstairs. I want them to talk to me. I walk around them and one lady looks right at me and smiles.

“He is here.” She says. “You must look harder.”

“I am here! I am here!” I say, jumping up and down. “Noah is here too.”

“Noah?” The lady asks.

“Kid's name is Kai.” A man answers. “Little boy, six years old I believe.”

“There are two little boys.” The woman says. “I feel them both.”

“She only had one child.”

The woman puts her hands to her face and she starts to cry. I feel really bad and softly touch her cheek.

“That's you, isn't it Kai?”

Someone knows I'm here and she knows Noah is here too.

“There is a Noah here too.” The lady says. “Something else is with them that's blocking my view. It doesn't want to be seen.”

“Upstairs is a locked wardrobe.” It was the man who came into my room talking. “I think we need to get a look inside. We looked everywhere else for the little boy.”


Now they are heading upstairs, into my room and they will open the wardrobe with that terrible thing inside.

They are trying to open the wardrobe. I have to stop them. I pick up one of Noah's toys and I throw it as hard as I can. It hits a man on the head. He stops and picks up the toy.

“I think we're definitely onto something.” He says.

I hear the creak of the wardrobe door and it opens. I don't want to look but I have to. The terrible thing in my wardrobe lies at the bottom and I remember.

Mom, she gave me the bottle and put me inside the wardrobe.

“Drink it all and then you can come out.” She promised. “Good little boys do what they are told.”

I was a good little boy so I drank the whole bottle it made me feel funny and tired. When I woke up I was on my bed, then I heard mom fall down the stairs.

I'm not scared anymore. Someone touches me and I look to see Noah standing next to me. I know him and he knows me. We are the same and our mothers are the same. One day another little boy will come here with his mother and will die like we did. He will become us too.

“Come,” Noah says. “Let's go play before it is time to die again.”